Doors Of Perception
by Christoph Andretti
Summary: After the events of the 76th Hunger Games, the next Rebellion is in full effect. So what better way to test out their objective than in the Games! We are crossing dimensions and Universes! Watch the magnificence of space and humanity in a Hunger Games that will stretch the boundaries of logic and imagination. SYOT! Info inside!
1. Chapter 1

"I noticed that you seemed very withdrawn from the rest of group when we arrived in District Nine. Barley told me that you also did that for the entire Tour."

When Aslovee entered the place that was given to me after he became victor, he knew This place is nothing like District 9, at all. The walls are made of golden white shit, he thought. The tables are shining in the light of the golden chandeliers, made of glass. There are a lot of things that he could not name, however.

The best of all things is the toilet. There's a shiny blue toilet bowl, a bloody red faucet, a colorful shower with fancy curtains, and a golden yellow bathtub. The bathroom has too many accessories, but the shower looks like the best one that he had seen in his entire life.

So He took a shower, and when he came out, Russell, the psychologist, was sitting on the cozy red sofa. . It is his first session. He sat with them and Russell starts the conversation.

"That's normal for me."

"But you barely talked to anyone the whole time."

"Also normal."

"So it's normal to be secluded?"

"Secluded? Like alone?"

Russell nodded.

"Everybody needs to be alone sometimes."

"Now, we noticed in the arena that your reaction to the deaths around you was quite muted. We're worried that your humanity has been lost in the situation you were in."

"You wanted me to show humanity? In the Games?"

"That's not what I meant. It's okay to be upset over what happened."

"I'm not upset. I did what I had to do. I'm sure you would have done the same thing."

"I'm afraid of blood."

"What?"

"I can't stomach the sight of blood. Makes me sick." Russell said with a cringe.

"How does that make you feel?"

"I just said it makes me nauseous. And don't turn this around. This is about you. You're in a safe place. Say whatever you want."

"So I can just pour out about all the bullshit around me and you won't tell anyone."

"I mean, if you're going to kill yourself, I have to tell somebody. Speaking of that, how's the medication?"

"I'm not taking it."

"Why not?"

"You gave me the wrong shit."

"It was just muscle relaxer."

"I got horse tranquilizers."

"Oh, shit. Really? Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"Slipped my mi-."

"Hey, Aslovee. Sorry to interru-."

"Who the hell are you?" He said to the boy.

"I could ask the same thing. I'm Christian."

"And what are you doing in this house?"

"Aslovee?" Christian said.

"They live here now."

"They?"

"His sister lives here, too."

"So you're letting people just come and go in here?"

"Nope. I only invited them."

"You can't keep secrets like that. It's not good for you."

"Why should you care?"

"It's not that I car-. I mean, no. That's not what I meant. I do care. I'm just s-saying that we want to keep close tabs on you."

"So I don't end up like Catnip."

"Katniss."

"I forget her name."

Christian knocked the glass on the wall. "Sorry, but I just wanted you all to know that the tea is ready. You want some?"

Russell turned to Aslovee. "Do I want some?"

"Will it calm you down?"

"I don't need to be calmed down. I'm fine."

"Go ahead, Christian. Put some of those pills in his tea, too."

Christian left.

"I'm glad you have a funny bone."

"I was serious."

"How about this?" Russell reached into his brown satchel and pulled out a laminated piece of paper. "Since you can't verbalize how you feel, visuals will help. This is a feelings chart. Point to what you feel."

Aslovee took the laminated paper. On it were faces of various colors. Green was happy. Red was angry. Blue was sad. A few more faces dotted the paper, and short descriptions filled out the space next to them.

"Where's bored?" Aslovee said.

"It's not on there."

"Okay. Then I'm mad."

"Excellent. I mean, not excellent. I'm just happy you're being aware of your emotions. So why are you angry? Do you feel that the world around you is strangling your freedom. Is your need for companionship being fulfilled with the two residents here?"

"None of that. I just hate how bored isn't on the paper."

Russell sighed. "Very well. What about your social life so far? You've gone into town, haven't you?"

"Yeah. Usually to get some things."

"What things?"

"Things."

"Illegal things?"

"I don't shoot up, if that's what you're asking. Drugs are fucking disgusting."

"But you used to steal them."

"That was only three times. And it was for money. It's not like I wanted to steal. Some shitheads out there aren't that bad. They're just making a living."

"So you feel guilty for stealing."

"No. Again, I needed to do it."

"But you hadn't killed anyone before. Were you prepared to take such a leap even if it was for your survival in the Games?"

"I did kill someone before."

Jerome's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. He looked down at his clipboard and flipped through the pages on it. After checking them all, he let them rest and stared at Aslovee.

"That's not in the file. Care to explain?"

"The only explanation I could think of is that your information doesn't go back that far."

"No. I mean, you killed someone before?"

An alarm clock on the table sounded.

Russell turned it off and sighed again. "I'm going to have an interesting talk to the reconnaissance department tomorrow. Thank you for your cooperation, Aslovee. I mean it."

Aslovee looked back at Russell with the same bored expression as usual.

"So, goodbye. I'll see you in three days. You're liaison will be here in an hour."

"Liaison?"

"Yes. Your conduit for communication between us and the Capitol. She will bridge the gap for us to give you information you need from you-know-where. By the way, she's going to have to stay here with you for a few days every two weeks."

"I have plenty of company with Isabel and Christian."

"Then Think of her as like a maid or something. You can work on what we talked about."

"We talked about a lot of things."

"Social skills. See you around."

Russell grabbed his beret and stepped out into the cold.

An hour later, a knock came from the door.

Aslovee opened it.

A girl with flowing blonde hair and pale green eyes stood in a pink jacket and black snow pants.

"Holy shit. You're that girl from that party."

She looks gobsmacked for a few seconds. Her mouth is ajar slightly, and her eyes shift towards Isabel and Christian behind him. "I thought it was only us."

"Only us?" Aslovee asked.

"Is this what you're using your money for?" Isabel asked with a chuckle.

"Oh, I-I'm the liaison. We met at the Victor's Ball."

"So are you actually from the Capitol?"

"Yes I am."

"Pretty suspicious seeing a Capitol girl over here," Christian said.

"It's okay. Barley hired me."

"Barley?"

"I, uh..." Then, her eyes widened in revelation. She took off her purple backpack and unzipped it. She pulled out a Manila folder and handed it to Aslovee. He looked at the cream paper inside.

"There's nothing on he-."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. It's...uh...invisible. In case anybody checked me. Can I come in? The snow is getting stuck in my hair."

Once inside at the dining room, the girl threw herself on a thin grey chair. She shrugged off her jacket, leaving her with a white sweater.

"I just made tea," Christian said. "I'll warn you. It may have horse tranquilizers in it."

"You're such a comedian, Christian." Isabel said.

"Thank you. Anyway, Aslovee needs to read what's on the paper. Do you have an iron we can use?" She said.

"What do we need an iron for?"

"To read the ink," Aslovee said.

"How the hell do you know that?" Isabel asked.

Aslovee said nothing and walked up the stairs. Isabel and Christian looked at the girl as discretely as they could. The siblings tensed up while meandering around the warm dining room, unable to determine the correct actions for the situation. Whenever the girl looked up at them, they immediately shied away their eyes from her vision.

Aslovee came down with the iron and plugged it into the socket. He gave the iron to the girl, and she started to run the paper on the glass table.

"Try not to get smudges." Aslovee said.

"What do you need an iron for, anyway? When would you use it?" Isabel asked.

"Maybe I like to take care of my clothes. It's not like I've had a closet before." He said.

"Uh," Aslovee turned to the girl. She stopped and looked at his black eyes. "I'm not very good with names."

"Oh! I'm Kim."

"You gave me those aspirins at the party."

"Barley saw me and thought I would make a good candidate for the job."

"Which is?" Christian asked.

"I don't mean to be rude, but I can't tell you. Only Aslovee."

"Okay. Victor shit. This is what you get living, bro." Isabel said.

"I guess we'll leave you two alone. 'Toby' is on, anyway."

"What?"

"It's TV. I suggest you catch up at some point."

The brother and sister left.

"So I think I have it pretty much down.". Kim said.

Aslovee looks down at the paper. Faint black ink appears on the surface. He picked up the warm paper from the steaming iron. Wafting the moist face in the cozy air, he straightened it and looked down at the writing.

Two minutes later, he ripped it up.

Kim snatched the torn pieces of paper. "No! Don't rip it up yet"

"They said to destroy it" Aslovee said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, but after I'm done explaining things to you."

"It seems pretty self-explanatory"

Kim straightened her hair. "Yes, but I just wanted to express how important this is."

"The only thing it really says is your job description which I guess is like a glorified mailman. And they picked you from the Capitol to lower suspicion. Not to mention, your fake IDs."

"Well," Kim said. "Something like that. I'm also here to help you adjust to your new life and tell you about the ongoings at you know where and where I'm from. We can't give you anything directly. Also, don't take this the wrong way."

Aslovee stared at her.

"I need to make sure that you'll be able to fit in well. Especially when you return to the Capitol in a few weeks and not cause any more trouble."

"That makes no sense. And since when am I going back to that shithole?"

"I'm just here to help with what they tell me to help you with. I'm sorry."

Aslovee moved closer to her. "Don't apologize. You haven't done anything wrong."

Kim leaned back slightly. "But it feels like I did. If I ever do anything wrong, let me know."

"Relax. I'm not going to whip you."

Kim giggled. "You're funny."

"I was being serious."

"I'm nervous. That's all."

"It said something about execution so like if I fire you you die."

"And my parents, too. They kind of drag them into this. But I guess that's just the fun of Revolution."

"So the folks at that place don't trust me." He said.

Kim took in a deep breathe. "I'm going to make sure you don't cause trouble. Not saying that you will cause any trouble! I'm just saying that...we're your friends and we're trying to do our best to make sure that nothing bad happens and we're just making sure you get all the help you need."

Friends? Aslovee thought the Rebels considering him a friend was funny. At the moment, Aslovee wasn't sure if they were any better than the Capitol. Mostly because he thought they were bat shit insane.

"So the doctor guy that just left wasn't enough?"

Kim stuttered. "Not really. No. I mean...I'm sorry if I'm being a nuisance. But I really have to make this work."

Aslovee wouldn't consider himself easily swayed by overpowering emotion. However, she was almost being held against her will just to act as an information conduit between him, the Rebels, and the Capitol. And her life was in his hands? The only reason Aslovee wasn't fazed was because he figured many others lives were in his hands since he was confronted by the Rebels.

"Okay so what are you going to do now?"

"I'm really tired, so can I just find the place to sit down?"

"I made mackerel."

Kim looked up at Aslovee. "Can I have some? I mean, it's okay. I can just go somewhere and grab a sandwich."

"You said you're going to be here for a few weeks?"

She nodded.

"Then you're having mackerel."

"I thought you were allergic to fish."

"Who told you that?"

"I guess your file isn't very well put together."

In the dining room, Isabel and Christian are sitting on the left side of the rectangular glass table. They were stuffing pieces of fish in their mouths and downing frosty glasses of cola. Aslovee was at the other end of the table eating extremely slow. He shifted around the food on his plate, separating the green beans and carrots into different sections from the mackerel. His eyes kept peeking up towards the television Isabel and Christian were fixated with. Kim looked over at Aslovee, and she blushed slightly.

"Uh...what are you doing?" She asked.

Aslovee snapped his eyes away from the screen towards Kim.

"He doesn't like food touching." Christian said without looking away from the television.

"It's better than being a slob." Aslovee said.

"You know, I made the tea. The least i could get is a thank you."

"I made the mackerel. Wanna try again?" Aslovee asked with narrowed eyes.

"I got you a victory cake when you came back." Christian said, pointing his fork towards Aslovee.

"I got you a house, shithead." Aslovee said.

Kim suppressed a smile. "So that's how you all came in here?"

Isabel whipped her head towards Kim and narrowed her eyes at the green-eyes girl. "That's funny to you, Capitol?"

"What?"

"That we were out on the street? We're just so below you, aren't we?"

"No! I don't care about that."

"I bet you were right there with all of those Capitol girls, weren't you? You love the Games, right?"

"What? I mean, I-I know more than I did a month ago."

"So you do like the Games?" Aslovee said, his face unreadable.

"I don't like lying," Kim shouted. The three around the table stared at her. She looked at all of them. Her eyes were wide, and her cheeks were redder than before. "I wasn't a huge fan of them, but it looked...f-fun. Just fun to look at! Not actually fun. Every teenage girl goes through that Games phase."

"The problem is that they never grow out of it." Christian said.

"The Games don't matter anymore. I-I'm sorry."

Kim looked down at her plate. Her arms were shaking slightly, almost negligible in movement if Aslovee was not placed so close to her. He was tensed up. His back was straight resting on the backboard of his chair. He kept looking at Kim, the interrogative words making her nervous. Aslovee had no idea what to do next. It was true that Kim was apart of those disgusting shitheads in the Capitol. However, if Russell and Barley hand picked her from the Capitol to work as this helper of sorts, then she had to be a little trus-acceptable for him at the moment.

Aslovee put his hand on Kim's head.

Kim looked at him with surprise painted on her face.

"Are you petting her?" Christian asked with a snort.

Aslovee ignored him. He looked straight into Kim's eyes. A few more tough seconds stretched through the commotion from the television.

He retracted his arm.

Kim had no idea what just happened. Was Aslovee making fun of her? Comforting her? Forgiving her? Condescending her?

Aslovee gasped. Then, he took a round velvet circle with the Panem flag emblazoned on it and slid it towards her. Then, he took Kim's tea and set it on the surface.

"Make sure you use coasters." He said.

Isabel hushed everybody. "Nobody breathe. Nobody talk. The results are in."

On the television screen, an old man in a blue turtleneck sweater identified as Toby sat in a plush red chair. Opposite of him was a skinny white lady in a puffy brown dress next to a skinny balding man. The audience was uproarious as Tony started to open up the envelope.

"Now, Liam, if this child is yours, you're going to be there for her and Miley, right?"

A beep sounded from the screen. "Man, I'll be there."

"Very well." Toby opened up the envelope. Silence fell on the crowd.

"In the case of two month old Hannah, Liam..."

"This is it. Better pay up." Isabel said to Christian who snorted with laughter.

"You are not the father."

Isabel groaned while Christian laughed mirthlessly.

"What the hell is this?" Aslovee asked with an unimpressed glance.

"It's 'Toby.' A Capitol show. They do paternity tests and everything on here."

"Who would like this shit? That's not " Aslovee asked to himself.

Kim slowly raised her hand.

Aslovee glared at her before getting up and leaving.

Isabel turned back to Kim. "Take your time warming up to him, Cap. He's an acquired taste."

"You didn't actually think he was the father, did you?" Christian asked her.

"You have to look at the forehead. If they don't match, they're not related."

Christian nodded and turned to Isabel. "I think I'm going to like her."

* * *

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	2. Tribute List

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	3. Prologue Part 2: Game Setup

The cigarette smoldered on the ash tray in the sunlight. The smoke rose and collided with the light rays coming through the window of the board room. Placed on the fiftieth floor, cold wind rattled the large glass stationed behind the long mahogany table.

"President Kirkland, I looked over the budget deficit of the past two years. For the first time in twenty years, we're in the green."

President Kirkland was a younger man around his late 20's. He had sand-blonde hair with emerald eyes. He had a more genial air around him. He was more relaxed, calmer, and approachable than many of the Presidents in the past. In fact, this is just what the Rebels counted for. A president that would be more sympathetic to the outside world.

"How the hell did that happen? I thought we'd be more in debt than ever." He said.

"War does wonders for the economy. We would have even more if it wasn't for the Games." A skinny old man said from a leather chair.

At this, a hand raised.

"Yes, Miss Quinn."

Helen Quinn stood up in front of her chair. "Building off of what he just said, I want t-."

"I have a name."

"What Mister Dover just said," Helen said with a sharp nod. "I have to say that the largest spike in revenue was during the Games, as usual."

"The problem is that it was also the source of the most spending. It was the most expensive Games ever, and we can't afford to delegate any more funds to it."

"We can. In fact, these Games will make more money than ever."

"And throw Panem under the bus in bankruptcy."

President Kirkland knocked on the table, silencing the two.

He cleared his throat. "While I appreciate the concern, Lanarsus had already allocated the funds to the new space program. Since our only operations currently is the preservation of last year's arena, we need to move forward unless we want to waste that money."

Mister Dover scoffed. "Then reverse the funds. Cancel the space program."

"I won't cancel the program after one year. It has shown to be profitable."

"Then let's see how profitable it will be after this year."

"So what will these Games entail?"

All eyes went back to Helen, who was looking down at the file in her hands.

"Interstellar travel." answered Helen in a serious tone.

"So like other dimensions and univershits?"

"Language please, Dover. Please explain, Miss Quinn."

"I believe that extra funding to the space program, with the stipulation of the Games, will guarantee a profitable return on the investment. If we can expand the Games to untapped limits, we will be able to bring even more employment opportunities and interest in space travel. We can expand Panem's wallet, literally, to the stars."

"Beautiful words, Miss Quinn. How are we going to accomplish these Games?"

Helen stopped and looked around at the table. Most of the men were quite old with the exception of the President. The small puff of smoke from Dover's ashtray fumed around the sunbeams poking through the cerulean sky.

"We don't know yet. This is something that has never been attempted before."

Dover slammed his hands on the table. "Exactly! How are we going to entrust these Games to a Head Gamemaker that doesn't even know if her acid trip is possible?"

President Kirkland nodded and pointed at Helen. "Miss Quinn, while your ambition is excellent, I'm worried that this will be pointless. What if it doesn't work, and they all blow up heading into a black hole or something?"

"We have a sewer as a backup plan."

"A sewer?"

"Yes. The whole arena is a sewer."

"And if they do blow up in the middle of the Games and we have no victor?"

"I will walk in front of the firing squad myself."

"We don't use firing squads anymore." Dover said.

"Quiet," President Kirkland said. He looked back at Helen, and smiled. "Miss Quinn, I'm glad you're confident in this. I must say that it is very comforting to me. Also, I see much more of an upside to this than a downside. It's quite a gamble, but I believe we can accomplish it. However, I'm not going to sign on just yet. I need a few more logistics to this. Also, we like to see how the citizens would feel about this. The ones that aren't completely opposed to the Games, of course."

The rest of the board let out an audible sigh of chagrin. Helen nodded.

"So, before the board does their pre-lunch coke bump, I'd Li... – Stop it, Dover! I know you all do it."

Dover sat back down, shutting his mouth from further debate.

"Anyway, how is our Victor?"

This was the opportunity Helen was waiting to bring up. "Actually, he is doing great. In fact, he actually wants to have a meeting with you in a couple of weeks."

President Kirkland gaped at Helen. "Really? Why is that?"

Helen looked up, trying to remember what she rehearsed. "Lately, a lot of Victors have caused trouble. He wants to be different and actually help Panem. He says that he wants to work closely with you to dispel any future issues with rebels."

President Kirkland chuckled. "Excellent! I heard he already has a bit of a following here, and I'm sure the other Districts don't outright hate him. I'll get the old Gamemaker's secretary to set something up right away."

Helen ran out of the room when the meeting ended. She had another meeting to set up at the Headquarters.

* * *

"So that's why you're going to the Capitol. To convince him to believe in us."

"You think he'll listen to me because I'm more agreeable than Katniss and that other guy?"

"Exactly. If he trusts you, he's going to be hard pressed to go against you. Especially since you're popular and he's not. Yet, at least."

"Being President is a popularity contest, isn't it? Just like being a Victor."

"Regardless, I need to keep you up with the Capitol ongoings. That way, you can embrace my lif... – I mean, their lifestyles. Think of yourself as a pawn in a chess game. But people don't know what color you are. Black or white? We need you to be both. For the Capitol and for the people back at you-know-where."

"So be like the Capitol, but not too much like them."

"Appealing to the Capitol is number one, but if you appeal to the Districts, it'll the easier for them to listen to us. In the meantime, you'll also be helping with the Rebellion."

After a few hours meandering around the house, Kim thought it was time to go over a thing or two with Aslovee.

The sun just went down and the sky is purplish blue. In the dining area, Aslovee stared at Kim. He looked at her sitting on the chair. She seemed a little tense, if not nervous. Her first day at his house had been filled with paranoia and suspense. Isabel kept making pointed remarks about how Kim thought the latter was above everybody for being a Capitol citizen. Christian tried a more subtle route by making Kim help him with making his tea and slandering all of the Capitol freaks on TV. Aslovee was forced to interact by going over the plans for the next few weeks and how he was going to cause President Kirkland to allow the Games. On top of that, he was suppose to be the new Mockingjay. At least, that's what she was told to tell him. He hated the notion of being a new something, a new anything, since he assumed that he would have to live up to something. Then again, the last person failed, so he figured he couldn't do much worse.

Stomping of feet vibrated down the stairs. Rounding the corner, Isabel and Christian walked to Aslovee as they appeared, completely disregarding Kim.

"Are you ready?" Christian said. "Let's go."

Aslovee shifted his eyes towards them. "Go where?"

"Marty's. You said we'd go out tonight." Isabel said.

"I did?"

"It's okay. You have plenty of money anyway." Christian said.

Aslovee sighed and turned to Kim. "Do you wanna go out?"

Kim hopped up from her seat quickly and stammered. Her heart rate increased. "What!? What's that suppose to mean?"

"It means that we are going out. You wanna come with us?"

Kim stood up properly and adjusted her straightened blonde hair. "Oh... definitely. Let me just get my clothes."

"And please," Isabel groaned. "Don't wear anything loud."

Kim paused while walking towards the stairs. "What do you mean?"

"Like bright or flashy. Did you bring any normal clothes?"

"Can we go now?" Aslovee asked.

* * *

They all left the house and went to Marty's. At the restaurant, the group sat down at a booth with white linen shrouding the wooden table. Candles sat on the table and left the scent of strawberries in its midst. Lamps lit most of the ritzy restaurant. It was located in the richest part of the District, which barely holds its head above the water of the Capitol middle class. Kim couldn't help but have shameful thoughts of how cheap this place is compared to the Capitol. She felt like an alien regardlessly. The people were much more accustomed to grime building into their own skins. Most of the clothes were drab and lifeless. It was almost a colorless world. Comparing this to the rainbow people shining and dancing around in the Capitol, it was a cemetery here. No glitz. No glamour.

The waiter walked up in a black polo shirt and white dress paints. "Hello. Welcome to Marty's. Can I get you all something to drink? Or are you ready to order?"

Everybody looked at Aslovee. He raised an eyebrow before turning to the waiter. "I didn't see your seafood over here. Is this like a lunch menu?"

The waiter tilted her head and looked at him. His eyes widened for a second. "Uh... Th-This is a s-steakhouse. We don't have seafood here."

"The steakhouses where I'm fr-." Kim started before covering her mouth and uttering an apology.

"No, go ahead. Tell us how great things are for you." Isabel said.

"Calm down. I'm hungry." Christian said with a sigh.

Aslovee stared hard at the waiter. "So, no seafood?"

The waiter shook his head.

"Water, then."

The waiter nodded briskly. "Yes, sir."

He walked away to prepare their water.

"What the hell? He forgot us." Isabel said.

"He must have realized who you are?" Kim said with a small smile on her face towards Aslovee. Aslovee suddenly stood up.

"Where are you going?" Christian said.

"To open up a seafood place." He said without turning back to him. He walked over to a restroom sign and disappeared behind the door.

Isabel and Christian look straight ahead at Kim. She immediately felt a sense of dread creep over her back. Without Aslovee there, they were probably going to grill her like the ribs sizzling in the kitchen.

Isabel smirked. "Sorry if this place isn't up to your standard."

Kim adjusted her hair. "No, I don't have a problem with it."

Isabel rolled her eyes. "Please. I saw the look you had when we walked over here. And when we sat down. We're beneath you, aren't we?"

"I'm sorry. It's almost an instinct to judge things for what they look like. I can't help myself."

"You can't help yourself to Aslovee either?" Christian said with a smirk.

Kim coughed. "What!?"

"Gimme a break. It's in your kind's nature to act this way. You go gaga over the Victor. Why? Because you love the Games, and no amount of screwing around is going to change that."

"But I don't like him beca... – No, I don't like him. I mean, I do like him. But not like that."

"Stop lying, Capitol girl. You blush whenever he gets in spitting distance. We've only been sitting here for ten minutes, and your face is redder than the slices of tomatoes in that guy's salad over there."

Kim stammered. "I'm s-s-s-sorry. I...I-I just can't help myself! My mind is wired to be superficial. I've been brainwashed to act this way, and I can't stop it."

"So how do you capital people handle that? You get the Victor, then what?"

"Inquiring minds want to know." Christian added.

Kim tried to regain some composure and licked her lips. "Well, we put them on a pedestal. They're like a product in a sense. Magazine covers, posters, action figures, you name it. We love them almost all of them. We especially loved..." she leaned in closer and whispered. "Katniss and Peeta. Honestly, most of us still do, but what they did was unforgivable, to us. I cried for two days after I found out who they actually were on the inside."

"On the inside!? Have you looked at yourself!?" Christian asked.

"I didn't realize how much damage we were doing. I was in a snow globe, and there wasn't a thing out here that mattered. If Barley hadn't come up to me, I'd still be that stupid fan girl."

"Congrats. Now you're an informed fan girl," Isabel said. "How did Barley get you on board anyway?"

"She promised me some time with Aslovee. Not that kind of time! But I couldn't pass up that opportunity to see a Victor in person. Let alone one like him."

"Like him?" Isabel chuckled. "You realize you're trying to put on a pedestal a guy with almost no redeeming values outside of a small sense of justice, and letting us live with him, and being kind of hot?"

"Really, Isabel?" Christian said.

"I'm just trying to be objective here."

"I guess you're right," Kim said with a sad sigh. "I can try, but I'll probably still be that ditzy Capitol girl I was at home. Old habits are hard to break. But I believe that Aslovee is a great person to rally around for the...future. And my boss, that psychologist guy, says that it's normal to feel like that since I've barely been out of there for two months. So I guess it's technically okay that I'm attracted to him."

"So you admit it?" Isabel asked.

Kim nodded. "I know there's no way I can get you to like anybody from the Capitol, let alone people like me. I want you to know that whatever you think of me, you may be right. But I don't do it to annoy or hurt anyone. I was just raised that way. If I knew it was wrong, I would have changed."

"But what's wrong here is right there. So you wouldn't have any way of knowing." Christian said.

"Don't defend her," Isabel said to her brother. "What's done is done. Whatever. The point is that you have a huge crush on him. Is it because he's a Victor, or do you actually like him?"

"I don't know," Kim said quickly. "I've only known him for two days, personally at least."

"I guess the thing about Aslovee is that you really only need a few days around him to get a feel for who he is. That's how it worked for us anyway." Christian said. "What I'm most concerned about at the moment is not your obsessiveness over our beloved midget, but the fact that you have action figures of him."

Kim couldn't help but try to shrug off a smile. "Actually, they make a set of them before the Games. All twenty four Tributes. I had them all. Although I kinda broke my Romeo Caliteo action figure. Apparently, the most valuable one from the Games is the Cyrene Polymer one. They stopped making her, so auctioneers are having a field day trying to get more. I have Aslovee and his special Victor's edition one. And...I bought three. And...it's in my room right now."

"Cool!" reacted Christian.

"Gross," said Isabel.

"That's not gross," Christian said. "A tinier version of Aslovee – Who wouldn't want that?"

"For your information, he grew two inches from being in space. He's five feet four now." Kim said.

"He's still just below eye level with you." Isabel said.

"Speaking of space, do you mind moving over again."

If a dark aura could emanate around a person, Kim was sure she would have seen it around Aslovee and his cold stare. For some reason, she didn't mind.

* * *

**Ladies and gentleman, Platrium again along with this chapter!**

**I will begin the reaping as soon as I get a filled District. However, the prologue is still important for the foundation of these Games, so expect periodic cutaways to our Victor and the Capitol.  
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**Now, I may seem like an individual with a streak of indulging in humor during any situations in everyday life, but I think I am a lot more serious than people think. Robin Williams has died from commuted suicide at 63. I, like almost every human being in the world, think he IS an incredible talent and hilarious actor/comedian. Comment what your favorite Robin Williams movie/moment is. An amazing life for an amazing person. If he isn't missed, I don't know who would be.**

**See you all in a few days. Mind you, school is starting up, so expect one or two updates a week** **instead of three or four. Enjoy!**


	4. Prologue Part 3: Mental Energy

Felix Schultz walked down the long hallway. He held a chocolate chip muffin in his hand. The crumbs fell on his ironed, crisp white suit. Sunglasses covering his eyes, he munched faster on the food while strolling towards the elevator.

Just then, a vibration shook his front pant pocket.

He took out his cell phone and picked it up.

"What's the word?" He asked.

"No cheeseburger. It's plan B."

Felix sighed. "But the meeting went well?"

Helen laughed. "Sure. We have Kirkland to thank for that. He's probably the first decent president since..."

"I'm listening."

"There's no end to that sentence."

"So it comes down to Aslovee. Are you sure there's nothing else you can do?"

"Nothing outside of getting on my knees and unzipping his pants."

"I heard he was a handsome fellow."

"Fuck you. I was kidding."

"So how is he doing?"

"Russell said that Kim was doing a good job. He should be ready to perform at the drop of a hat."

"Okay, but how is he doing?"

Helen paused. "Russell is having a tough time getting to him. The boy is really closed off."

"That simply won't do. I was hoping keeping the communication lines open would help him not become someone like Katniss."

"So what should we do about getting these Games approved?"

"Wait for the meeting. It's up to Aslovee now. Just remember. WWJD."

"What?

"What would Jerome do?"

"So what will these Games entail exactly?"

Felix sighed again. "I really don't want to go over all of it, but I will say this much. Do you know what dimensions are?"

"Uh...length, width, and height?"

"Correct. For the most part. You need to understand that those three elements you speak of combine for the foundation of different dimensions. Infinite combinations meshed together with other components."

"What components?"

"Time."

"Time?"

"Yes. Time. Thought. Feeling. And magnetic, etheric, and electric energy all combine together to form the main aspects of dimensions: space, energy, and motion. At the moment, we think of ourselves in three dimensions because they are as basic as they come. What makes up the first three dimensions is motion. The first dimension is physical motion. Second dimension is emotional motion, or feeling. The third is mental emotion, or thought. Space and energy have their own dimensions. When they all intertwine, it comes together to make the laws of reality the ones we know and...love today. If we can cross into those other dimensions, and possibly manipulate them, then escaping Panem will be a forgone conclusion."

"I think I have the idea. Can one of the science bunnies give me a rundown?" Helen asked.

"I suppose so. You are Head Gamemaker after all."

"In name only. I just follow your orders. If anything, you're Head Gamemaker."

"Anything else? I've become hooked on Capitol TV, so do have a good day."

"Hey, how is Katniss doing?"

Felix shrugged to himself. "Still stuck in isolation? Where else?"

"Is she coming with us to space when we leave?"

"I have to go."

Felix hung up.

* * *

A few days passed by with little incident. Kim kept coaching Aslovee on how to act around the President during the upcoming meeting and what points to bring up to him for the Rebels. Isabel kept up her Capitol immersion by watching the television. She still made pointed comments at Kim when Aslovee or Christian weren't around, usually about her ornate fashion sense or the general messed up lives that the Capitolites lived, according to what she saw on television.

Christian kept making subtle remarks trashing the Capitol. However, he didn't seem to group Kim into the mix anymore. Instead, he just bossed Kim around more. Tea making, mostly. Kim wanted to tell him off, but she was worried that a pissed off Christian would lead to a pissed of Isabel and then a pissed of Aslovee. Then, she would be fired and promptly executed. They couldn't let out what was going on in the house, and the Rebels wouldn't take chances with her.

Ultimately, Isabel was still directly making fun of her odd quirks, from the obsessive nature of the Games and fashion, to the accent she sometimes broke into when nervous. She trained herself to speak with the normal District Nine accent, but her Capitol side was still around and leeched on her like the caterpillars hugging the cut grass outside of the mansion. Christian seemed more curious to learn about the Capitol than anything. However, he still made it clear that he wasn't a fan, although he did admit that their entertainment was funny.

Aslovee was completely puzzling to her. Of course, she still couldn't fight the starstruck emotions she got when near him. Her Capitol programming in her mind conditioned her to fawn over Aslovee every second. In fact, Kim was secretly watching reruns of the Games to spot him (although she did skip over him almost getting blown by one of the Tributes). She cringed thinking about why would happen if Isabel or Christian found out.

However, she still fought hard with the turmoil raging in her head. The lustful tension between her and Aslovee was threatening to overshadow her main purpose for being there in the first place. Then again, it's not really tension if it is only felt by one person. Aslovee seemed to be completely neutral towards her. Sure, he invited her to go with him when they went out. He didn't seem to have any qualms with having her around and even hearing her speak. Sadly for Kim, she didn't know if this was staunch politeness, or a subtle attraction from him.

Aslovee didn't seem like a person to really like anybody, let alone romantically. This depressed Kim to no end.

That's why she made it a point to talk to Russell when he showed up at the end of the week.

"Now, getting back to a common theme in your life, you have been a loner for quite sometime."

Silence.

"Do you want me to say something?" Aslovee asked.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to say anything yet. I was just wondering for how long have you truly been alone?"

"I dealt with shitheads all the time out there. I wasn't alone."

"You know what I mean."

"I don't really care about being alone. It's worked out for me. I'm still alive."

"You justify your survival in the Games with your penchant for not trusting others?"

"It worked on the streets, too."

"Have you ever trusted anybody with anything?"

Aslovee stared at the rippling tea in the glass cup by Jerome. They sat in silence, Aslovee's blank, almost bored stare being the only answer.

"Uh...No." Aslovee said as if he realized how bad that sounded.

"Not even the other two that live here?"

"I guess I've let my guard down too much lately."

"You think you've actually trusted people too much recently?"

"Yes. Barley stuck me with a needle. And I don't know shit about that other girl here."

"Rest assured, Kim isn't going to stick you with anything," Russell said. Then, he leaned forward and clasped his hands together. "You're safe here. Nobody will do anything to you. All we ask for is that you open up to us so we can both reach our goal."

Aslovee frowned. "What's that mean? My goal is to live without this bullshit in this house. And you come in here and tell me I have to put people on my shoulders."

Russell nodded. "But you realize that."

"It was my choice, but don't say it's both our goals."

"Regardless, it seems that the lack of trust you have in others would reach back to your days before the Games."

"Really?"

"Sarcasm aside, yes. The only people you even bat an eye at are Isabel and Christian. What made them special?"

"They needed help and I helped them. Then they helped me."

"And nobody ever did that before?"

"No."

"So by helping you, they gained your trust."

"I didn't say that."

"I'm sorry. They became allies to an extent."

"I mean, we wouldn't go out of our way, but if someone needed a bone, they'd throw it. It works both ways."

"And after years of this 'you scratch my back, i scratch your's' mentality, you decided to bring them in."

"I knew them. That's it."

"If you knew others on the street, would you bring them in?"

"I do know others."

"But they didn't help you?"

"No."

Russell nodded and looked at the timer. It was just about to ring, so he turned it off. Standing up, he gathered his briefcase beside him and walked towards Aslovee, who was seated on the couch. "I'm glad we kept moving forward. You're doing great. No matter how you perform from here on out, we couldn't ask for a better Victor."

"I bet you say that to all the Jabberjays, or whatever the hell they're called."

Russell chuckled. "Kim said you were a bit of a comedian. I'm glad she's right."

"I was serious."

"I've left Kim with the details for your visit. Once you leave the Capitol, Kim is coming back with us for a few more weeks. You'll know in advance when she'll return. After that, she'll give you any more info you'll need about the Games."

Russell started to walk out of the room. He turned back to Aslovee one more time. He nodded at him. "Keep up the good work. You talked more now than you did before."

Russell put on his hat and walked out into the placid winter.

When Russell stepped into the chilled air, the soft white snow pedals floated down the dark and empty street while illuminated by the dim streetlights above. A soft gust of wind pushed the flakes around as they danced in the frosty winter.

Russell's eyes watered. He took a few steps. The snow crunched underneath his foot.

"Russell."

Russell turned around to see Kim running down the brick steps in a haphazardly thrown-on purple coat. Holding the railing, she slowed down on the ground to avoid the small ice patches reflecting the lights in the mansion. She walked to Russell.

"Did I forget something?" Russell asked.

"It's just...I-I..." Kim's cheeks were red, and she stammered a few times before closing her mouth.

They stood in silence, letting the soft wind and crunching snowfall cushion the space around them.

"This is about Aslovee, isn't it?"

Kim gasped. "How did you know?"

Russell chuckled. "It's obvious. And we did kind of talk about it at Headquarters."

"I'm really sorry. I just can't think straight around him. That Capitol girl is still in me. It's hard to turn away from sixteen years of the same thing only to be told its wrong. But then, what's right? Is feeling this way wrong because I'm a shallow Capitol girl, or is it wrong because it's Aslovee?"

Russell moved a little closer to Kim and brushed some snow of her blonde hair. "Relax. Sometimes people complicate things far more than they need to. The best answer could be the most obvious one in this case."

"What's that?"

"Let your feelings be known."

"But...Russell?"

"What I mean is that you may still be at heart something you don't want to be, but that doesn't mean you can't strive to be something different. That also doesn't mean that you can't ask for help. If this was the old regime with Paylor or Coin, we would have just brainwashed you and gotten it over with. We know better, though. We realize that this sort of eugenics insanity is the exact reason classist hierarchies exist to begin with. We are people to trust, even if some people are still wary around you."

"But if I tell him, he'll fire me, and I'll be killed. By you all, no less."

"Aslovee wouldn't fire you. And if he did, I'll certainly get him to acquiesce to your re-hiring. I think you're doing good, anyway. Compared to our first meeting, Aslovee was a chatterbox. I bet he'll be perfectly fine when he meets Kirkland in a few weeks. And also, I hate to sound vain, but I bet people would be incredibly intrigued in knowing Aslovee was fraternizing with a Capitol girl."

Kim gasped and pushed Russell back. He laughed. "However, I must say its a two way street. And for what it's worth, you're doing a remarkable job at not being you."

"A Capitolite?"

"Exactly. Aslovee and company will have you assimilated before I get back. In fact, your impulsive vain and materialistic nature will go away faster than the snowfall here."

Kim couldn't help but pout. "I'm not that materialistic. Who doesn't like nice things?"

"To address the elephant in the room, though, I personally have no issue with you telling Aslovee anything. That is what you're kind of here for to begin with. I know the boys back home won't approve, but in these situations, we find suppressing human emotion only makes instability worse. Why do you think you-know-who is in a mental ward?"

"What's that mean?"

"If you bottle things up, you'll explode. Who knows? Maybe you'll find out as much about Aslovee as you can about yourself. New things, that is."

"It's okay to feel this way?"

"Absolutely. Just try not to get more distracted from your job. Honestly, if it was anybody else, I would tell you to keep it in. Our humble Victor seems to have enough self-control, though. I doubt he'll act out purely on emotion, regardless of scenario. Emotion isn't a crime. It's a test. If he doesn't like you, think of the people that do. And like I said, think of this as a phase. In a few days, you may be completely over him."

Russell waved at her. "Good luck."

Kim trudged back inside.

* * *

**Some more foundation for the SYOT. For those of you just tuning in, the Victor of the last Games is going to try to convince the President and Panem that these Games should happen. Otherwise, it'll be another trip to the forest. It also gives people a good benchmark on what my writing is like. See if you like it enough.**

**I will most likely do one more prologue chapter, then on with a reaping. I believe only one District is full since I am being much more selective over the Tributes. So please take note in the updated list.**

**What do you think will happen in these Games? And how? What about the new Mockingjay's progress? Will Helen succeed as a double agent? **

**We will figure out some day.**


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**District 7**

Male: Xenophon Cupress (14)-grandvizier547

Female: Larissa Savoy (17)-bobothebear

**District 8**

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**District 10**

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**District 12**

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* * *

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	6. District 7 Reapings

Xenophone Cupress

"I thought the whole thing was bullshit."

The fifteen year old boy with peanut butter brown hair and green eyes sat on the worn log with a small black book in his lap. Circling his thumbs over the paperback, he shifted his head towards the girl next to him who had her eyes closed. She rested her head on her hand, letting the soft buzz of the crickets and chirping of birds muffle the sound of Xenophone's whining.

"It's pretty obvious it was covered up. Did you see the shimmer around the arena? That's the force field that kept everything in. They turned it off to let in all that space junk. I guess that girl was smart enough to know the window of opportunity."

"So they didn't explode." Monica said in a flat tone.

Xenophone scoffed. "It's a long way down from space. Even if they blew past the force field, which they did, there are so many things that would go wrong. Their ashes are probably blowing around the clouds right now."

"Great image."

"Sadly, there isn't much at the library on the mechanics of spaceships and outer space and whatever the hell else. So, it was computers to the rescue again. And guess what?"

Monica stayed silent.

"Are you listening?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Anyway, the computer didn't have anything either. I can't catch a break, can I?"

"I guess not."

"You're just filled with ethereal insight today, aren't you?"

"What?"

"What?"

"What does 'ethereal' mean?"

"Forget it. The big thing I need to tell you is that...remember that girl at the interviews last year? The one with the writing fetish?"

"I guess."

"Well, she was talking about this author named Ernest Hemingway. People got really curious about him. Now, they're trying to squash that bug as fast as they can."

"Who?"

"The Capitol. Point is, you can't mention the guy without being dragged away and offed by some sort of weapon. That being said, there was a restricted place in the library I've been scouting out. Being the unadventurous person I am, I decided to get somebody to run in there and do some shopping."

"Did you ask nicely?"

"Money is the most powerful drug. So, he brought back some Hemingway and a biography. And guess what? The guy wrote fucking novels. Novels. I guess I could find something of historical value, but otherwise, I don't want it."

"Why not?"

"I just want the facts. I don't need some drunk guy's ramblings about existential dread bouncing around my head. It distracts me from the real stuff that happened. So I saw the biography instead. Now, I'll spare you the details about this guy and his private life with some kids and a wife and drowning his liver with alcohol. Instead, I read about this war that he went through. He drove an ambulance during something called the First World War. Imagine that. The whole world in a war. And we thought Panem was bad. But that leads to another thing. What world? We know shit about the globe, and even less about what's right beneath our feet. Who walked here hundreds of years ago? How did the world get in a war? For that matter, how did that space debris get up there to begin with? There has to be some point in the past where other humans went into space."

"Yup."

"And what about that Bible I found a few weeks ago? Where does that fit in?"

"Yup."

"I get some of the things from way in the past, but I can't find a correlation to how we got to this point. No turn of the tide, no warning signs, no nothing. Unless it was the First World War that caused it. But then why is it called the First World War? There had to be another one, right?

"Yup."

"You're not getting a word, are you?"

"Yup."

Xenophone sighed. "It's okay. I barely understand either. I wouldn't expect you to."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, I'm not saying you're stupid. I'm just saying that no one else really thinks about this."

"You've been doing this since the day I met you. Can you just admit that this place is a shithole and leave it at that?"

"No! There is so much more! Don't you get why that's important?"

"Not really."

Xenephone looked around. "Regardless, if Hemingway's biography survived, there has to be more. Right now that's the best picture of pre-Panem life so far. Other than that Bible."

"Isn't that a weird word? Bible?"

Xenophone shook his head. "So after that whole discussion about it yesterday, that's all you took from it?"

"I guess I don't like talking about things that will get me killed."

"Speaking of getting killed, what're you doing after the reapings?"

"Whatever you are, I guess."

* * *

Larissa Savoy

Larissa realized her efforts for the paper crane were in vain. Despite priding herself on the crumpled up drawings and writings hidden from the world in her desk drawer, she could not master the art of folding paper. It ticked her to no end, and it was moments like these, bunched up throughout the day, that made her squeeze her fists and pound on the desk.

When her parents called her down to the dining room, she gasped. Looking back at the mangled paper, she shoved them into the top drawer and slammed it shut.

She walked down the dingy steps into the cramped dining room. At a long table, a few plates were resting in front of a group of family members. Her aunt, uncle, and grandparents all moved in after the unfortunate circumstances of their newfound poverty. With the grey walls enclosing them in the small space, the frosted windows obscured the view outside into the lower middle class neighborhood.

She sat down at the wooden table. The family members room their seats in shaky wooden chairs.

Larissa's mother stirred the steaming scrambled eggs on her plate. "You have your clothes ready?"

Larissa nodded. "Mmmhmm." She hummed through the food she was gouging into her mouth.

"Yes, those colored rags. Are they ready?" Her Grandmother said with a chuckle.

"Mom, it's the reapings. Please stop." Larissa's mom said.

The old lady scoffed. "You wouldn't be so nervous if it wasn't for the tesserae."

"You know we had to do that."

"I guess running companies into the ground would do that, wouldn't it?" She said.

Larissa's head grew light. She always grew queasy during confrontations, but her family issues always exaggerated those feelings.

Larissa's dad stroked his wife's long brown hair. "Calm down, honey. We're fine today. We don't need fighting."

"We didn't need tesserae either."

"Yes we did, mom. Stop it. Larissa," her mom turned to a surprised Larissa. "How's the food?"

She smiled. "It's great. It reminds me of that New Years party a few years ago."

"Back when we could actually have parties?" Grandma asked with a sneer.

Her mom got up and took her plate. "I'll get your clothes ready."

After eating in cold silence, Larissa got dressed in her best pink blouse and straightened her hair. With a few hugs to go around to the family inside, she departed with a cringe on her face. Her shoulders were hunched up, and her head was kept down from the peering sight of the less fortunate surrounding her new home. Larissa walked down the cobblestone street. A smaller girl joined her in the middle of the road.

Vee. Her only friend. The girl with black hair patted her on the shoulder.

"How's everything?" She asked.

Larissa nodded and drew a thin smile. "Fine."

"We both know that's not true."

Larissa's face fell. "It's that obvious?"

Vee nodded.

Larissa sighed. "They were fighting about money again."

"It's no big deal. They didn't break anything this time, did they?"

Larissa shook her head. "I guess it's a good day when they're not throwing things in anger at each other."

They continued to pace down the trampled street in the sweltering noon sun blanketed by the moist air. With the large crowd funneling into the town square, Larissa started to feel her heart jitter with nerves. The rumbling of feet on the ground vibrated up her legs, causing a metronome effect to cling onto her insides. Soon, she made it to the line. She neared the end. With every step, the thumping grew harder, and it caused her head to grow lighter in fear. When she got to the entrance, a brown haired lady with a nasally voice barked out at her to reach out her hand. The sun stabbed at her eyes as the needle entered her finger.

A quick gasp.

The lady gave Larissa a curt nod, and the teenager proceeded into the reaping area. Larissa walked to her age section, careful not to touch any of the shoulders around her. The last thing she wanted in this unnerving cemetery was unwanted human contact.

She kept herself to the edge of the large pen with the intent of a hasty escape the moment the two Tributes vanished from the wooden stage.

However, there was a smaller splatter of excitement at this years Reapings. A few people were talking and joking around. Some excited whispers raced around the people huddled together. With the decent result of last year's Games, along with Seven trying to reinvent itself as a formidable Games opponent, the teenagers in the District were less subdued at the Reapings. In fact, a few boys were even tapping their feet and fidgeting around in anticipation or impatience. For some reason, this made Larissa feel a dearth in her stomach. Surely, people here didn't get excited over this whole affair?

A large man with bald hair and a handlebar moustache graced the stage with a twirl and bowed at the mute crowd. A few people smirked at the man, and somebody even whistled in jest. The man let out a high-pitched squeal of a laugh.

"Come one, come all, to this year's annual Hunger Games. I'm glad to see that this crowd is a little more festive than the ones in previous years. I guess that new training center finally got people to live a little."

A few snickers escaped into the air.

"Now, for my favorite movie of the year, let's roll the video the Capitol has graciously lent us." The man snickered.

A couple of groans ringed through the thick air as the traditional Games video. Larissa felt _

The man guffawed. "Without further ado, let us get to the main event. Ladies first, as always."

He reached over towards the glass bowl shining in the glow of the clear sky. Taking his stubby fingers, her grips a slip of paper and holds it out to his face.

"And our female tribute this year is Larissa Savoy."

"Our male tribute is Mister Zane Cu-."

"I volunteer."

A slender young man stared up at the stage with a stony expression of deaf contemplation. It was as if he didn't yet hear himself volunteer. After the loud murmurings and slanted stares, he got the message that it was him that would have to walk up to the stage.

"And your name is?"

The boy turned to the crowd. "I'm Xenephone Cupress."

The man nodded before taking Larissa by the shoulder. He pushed the two closer to the point that their sides bumped into the other. "I humbly present this years tributes for the Hunger Games."

* * *

"When you get there, please don't go on about your theories."

Xenephone lay with his hands resting behind his head on a pearl white couch in a bright room. The only other furniture inside was a leather love seat and a brown coffee table complete with lavender-scented candles fuming on the edge. The sunlight was half obscured by the purple curtain shrouding the window, leaving a dark wall of shadow draping half of Xenephone's face, with the other half of his head in the sunlight. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he traced his thumbs on the edge of the couch.

"What theories?" He asked.

"About things that aren't true." His mom said. Xenephone's parents and brother were standing by the doorway of the room, incensed from his brash decision. In fact, it seemed that the bust of President Kirkland was separating them from nearing him.

"You two are ridiculous. I can't be the only person in the world that cares about the world."

"Everybody! Just stop." Zane said. His outburst immediately silenced the terse room. "Why did you fucking do that?"

Xenephone sat up on the couch. "Do what?"

"Volunteer. For me. You knew I had to do this."

"Don't act so sad about it. You've all been waiting for an excuse to get rid of me for years. Well, here you go." Xenephone threw his hands up.

His dad's face fell from it's stern uplift to a more melancholy state. "Xenophone, we didn't want you to go into the Games."

"Stop acting sad, dad. You love this."

"You did this so you could get away from us?" His mom asked.

"I don't want to talk about it."

A knocking on the door interrupted the family. The door opened. Monica walked inside.

"I guess we should leave you two. Good luck, boy." His dad said.

"Be smart." His mom walked over and gave him a loose hug.

Zane stood by the door, shaking his head at Xenephone. He turned and walked away in front of his parents, who held their heads down. What would the people at the training center say?

Xenephone stood up as Monica walked closer.

"Aren't you supposed to be smart or something?"

Xenephone sighed. "You know, things like that don't make me feel any better."

"It's not like there's much else that will."

The boy looked at Monica. "I'm not a huge fan of...you know. Emotions. But I think I should say something."

"Like what?"

"About us."

"Okay, time out. There is no 'us'. We never did anything that could make us 'us'."

"No. I know that. I mean, just about us. But not in that way."

"What is it?"

Xenophone took a step towards Monica. Then, he reached his hand out and gripped the back of her head. In the flicker of the light dimming from a cloud outside, Xenephone kissed Monica. Her eyes widen in shock, but she stayed in his arms. He wasn't sure if it was from shock, relief, or a cocktail of the two feelings. It was a warm, blurred sensation, almost like drunken stupor, but not entirely unpleasant.

When he pulled back, Monica stepped backwards and stammered. "What the hell was that?"

Xenephone wiped his mouth. "You could have at least closed your mouth all the way. I think I kissed your teeth."

"Why did you kiss me?"

Xenephone stared at Monica for a few tense seconds. The soft rumblings of the crowd reverberated around the silent, sun infused room.

Xenephone coughed. "Well, I'm not stupid. I know the odds in that place. And you're the only person that really heared what I said, even if you never listened. And...I never kissed a girl before. So there."

Monica moved a little closer to Xenephone. "You know, you're not bad looking. If you weren't a lunatic, maybe we could have gone out."

"Or at least have sex?"

"Fuck you. Anyway, you can make it out. Just don't be you in there, alright?"

Xenephone sighed. "Very well. I think I have to go. Wish me luck."

"Bye."

* * *

"See you, baby. Don't forget where you are from."

"I'm so scared."

"I know you are. I am, too. But I promise that you can use that energy of fear into something amazing. That's how I married your mom, after all."

Larissa smiled through her tears. "Thank you. I'll do my best."

Larissa loved her family to death. Even if they caused her much frustration and fear. Fear of rejection, sadness, betrayal, and even the superficial elements of living a less-glamorous lifestyle that they had been used to. At the end of the day, Larissa wanted to be anybody except herself. It was an odd inclination to rip herself out of her skin and be a different person. One without these social issues or worries of her splintering home life.

The Games were a solution. One that she didn't want, but a solution regardless.

* * *

**I find it funny how I did not factor in real life as a reason for not updating. However, writing is real life to an extent. It is all art, correct?**

**Thank you for joining in on this first reaping. I am still accepting applications as we speak. I am much more selective this time around, so if your tribute does not appear on the list, I either rejected him/her, forgot, or am still considering the Tribute.**

**Story Spotlight for sponsor points! Please review the story _Sniper _by Alfonso Ling. It is in the Haruhi Suzimiya section. However, previous knowledge of the canon is not required for enjoyment. It is just off-the-wall insanity, and it is great. In fact, do anything by Alfonso Ling. The author is criminally underrated. **

**Also, if you missed chapter 3, please go back to it. I noticed a massive drop in reviews percentage wise for that chapter. I think there was a glitch for a second, so either it was looked over, or people hated it. **

**Spread word of the story. Get everyone you can involved. The more submissions, the faster this can go. Good luck!**


	7. Prologue Part 4: A Quick Encounter

President Kirkland combed his fingers through the coarse brown fur of his old russell terrier.

That being said, being undercover for half of the day did have its advantages. Mainly, he didn't have to worry about being assassinated quite yet while he was sleeping.

On the screen, Caesar Flickerman was having a conversation with this man with a dark blue turtleneck sweater and pleated khaki pants. They were seated at a black round table. A coffee mug steamed in front of the two speakers.

"Glad you're here with us, Toby. We realize you're busy with your own show, but we need opinions from all sides of the story. All sides of the story is the name of this show, after all." Caesar said.

The audience chuckled.

Toby nodded. "Yes. Hello, audience."

"So, onto business. We just heard a week ago about Helen Quinn becoming the new Gamemaker. We also have reports of a large percentage of government spending being directed towards the space program which just came out last year. Do you think those two events correlate?

Toby scoffed. "Absolutely. I'm not a rocket scientist like half of Panem thinks they are...but I think they're going to take things to the next level. Whatever that is."

Caesar looks down at a piece of paper. "However, crowd reaction, despite having an 88% approval rate for last years Games, is quite lukewarm. In fact, a large group are outright denying this possibility of another Games above our atmosphere."

Toby nodded. "Well, Caesar, when it comes to that, the audience is more untrusting of who is in power than ever. We replaced the President and Head Gamemaker at the same time. And we never heard of either of them. Give us a reason to trust them to begin with."

The crowd cheered.

"You dislike the President?"

"Guilty until proven innocent. It's not that he's done anything bad. He just hasn't done anything good that would make me like him. Not to mention, he seems kind of wishy-washy."

"When it comes to next year's Games, do you think we will see a fall in quality?"

"If not, a ratings drop."

Kirkland stood up and walked towards the counter of his kitchen. He reaches out the the metal tray of grapes sitting in the marble countertop. Plucking some off the thorny vine, he squished some between his teeth. The sour juices evaporated in his mouth.

He turned his head towards the open notebook at the other end. The date and time for the next day was circled with stars around the shape. Kirkland knew that tomorrow was going to be instrumental into raising popularity levels and for causing these special Games to begin at all.

When word got out about his meeting with Aslovee Chesed, his approval rating would go through the roof. If he played his cards right. Then, his chances of assassination were almost negligible. At least, that's what Helen had suggested when he wondered out loud about approval ratings. He told her in private while they were going back to her hovercraft transport. Truth be told, most Presidents didn't have to worry about being liked. Sadly for Kirkland, the President position seemed to be very open as of late. He didn't think any of the corrupt Board members would hesitate to get a hitman and kill him.

Who would want to kill President Kirkland, world's greatest leader, anyway?

Kirkland looked down at his dog. "Do you like me?"

The dog didn't bat an eye.

* * *

The waiting room was a cool area with black sleek tile that reflected the recess lighting in the white ceiling. The black leather couches lined the sides of the grey walls. The room was windowless. In fact, the only opening was the steel door directly in front of the black receptionist table. A large obsidian fan shook, wafting cool air tinged with a cherry scent around the small space.

Waiting for the meeting, Aslovee hunched over the glass coffee table while biting his lip. There was a puzzle strewn on the table in front of him. From the cardbox box on the floor, it appeared to be a puzzle of Panem. Aslovee was close to finishing the outskirts of District Four. He was intrigued; he had never even seen a map of Panem before. Geography was something the Capitol liked to keep close to their chests.

When he was told he had to try and convince Kirkland to approve of the Interstellar Games, Aslovee was weary enough. However, with an opt-out option in case the heat grew too much, he felt a little more comfortable in his position. Worse case scenario, these games don't happen. If he could stop twenty-four kids from facing the perils of the unknown, then it couldn't have been too much of a loss.

Then again, worse case scenario is that Kirkland finds out about the Rebellion and kills Aslovee with the entire Rebellion. Then, Kim. Then, Isabel and Christian for existing. At the end of the day, Kirkland would probably be killed as well for his incompetence. Unfair, but that's how things went now.

Kim had her own problems. Finding out all of the specific reaping dates and arranging ways for Aslovee to be a good mentor was stressful. Aslovee couldn't raise a shred of suspicion to himself, and all of these fail-safes were irritating. There was so much effort from her and the Rebellion to make sure he, and they, were not found out.

Not only that, but Kim had another personal problem. She was unequivocally obsessed with Aslovee.

She couldn't help herself. It was in her nature to love the Games, and the people involved in them. It was a hard struggle that kept her up endlessly at night. However, she knew how important her role was, and she tried to shoulder on under those amazing black eyes that Aslovee had. She lusted over him almost every moment she thought of him. His eyes, his facial features, his soothing voice, his amazing body, and an infinite number of other reasons. Hell, she even thought he made doing that puzzle look hot.

A beeping noise came from the front desk. The young lady with glasses pressed a button and stood up. She walked to a steel door, and placed her hand on the scanner. Once that lit up in recognition, she pressed a few buttons on a keypad. Then, the door hissed while it moved aside.

The secretary turned towards Aslovee, who was mid-grip in laying a piece of District Four on the table.

"Time to go."

* * *

"How's Victor life gone for you?"

The office was a large enough room. Most of it seemed more like a study. All of the furniture and shelfs around the area were built from shiny mahogany. In fact, an aroma of pine circled around the room from the draft rumbling through the open window.

Aslovee sat in a brown chair in front of the gleaming desk. President Kirkland smiled at him an draised an eyebrow, waiting for his delayed answer.

"Good."

"District Nine doing good?"

"As good as before."

Kirkland sighed. "That's what I was worried about."

Kirkland took the folder and threw it on the desk. He opened it up and slid some papers over to Aslovee.

"I want you to look at that."

He looked at it. It was the exact same folder about the Games that Kim gave him earlier. Minus the Rebellion aspects, of course.

"It's the Games for next year." Kirkland said.

Aslovee looked up at nodded. "The Tributes are going into...where?"

"We don't know yet. I've been trying to learn more about interstellar travel, but it just goes in one ear and out the other."

"Listen, I know it may sound crazy, but I think you should seriously consid-."

"What I need to know is if you endorse this."

Aslovee paused. "Even if I didn't, couldn't you just force me to?"

Kirkland looked at the closed door behind Aslovee.

"You know, I'm not a huge expert on these sort of things. Honestly, most presidents aren't. They just pick what sounds cool and that's it."

"I think that we shou-."

"However, you probably know by now that this is a very important for all of us. We've had a rebellion and three Presidents in the past two years. I'm twenty eight years old. Do you know how much people want to see me mess up?"

"Yeah. But I actually want the-."

"Exactly. If I step on an ant, they'll execute me for murder. Not to mention, the chances of another rebellion happening are extremely high right now. And nobody wants a repeat of what happened, correct?"

Aslovee nodded.

"That's why I have to get this right. If I can't convince the Board and the Treasury to fund these Games, I can't have them. If I can't have these Games, then people will hate me more than before. **It would almost be like there weren't enough tributes for the Games to happen. Could you imagine if there were no Tributes and no Games?**"

"We have to keep people happy."

"And the thing that's making people happiest right now is you. Because you're the Victor."

"Are you saying we team up?"

"I need people to approve of me to approve of these Games. Far too much money has already been spent on them to back out now. If we make it seem like their choice, and I go along with them, they'll like me more and I won't have to worry about being ousted. How do we do that? You."

"I want these Games to happen, too."

Kirkland laughed. "You do?"

"I think it's important for the future of Panem to stretch technology as far as it can go."

"Do you know how rare it is for anyone here to be on the same level? Let alone the President and Victor? I actually thought I was going to have to convince you further."

"I'm as surprised as you are."

"You are a very powerful person at the moment. If people see that we're on the same side, we can accomplish anything."

"So I guess I'll just go out and tell everyone how great you are?"

"I don't even think we need to do that much. You have an interview on TV tomorrow, right?"

Aslovee nodded.

"Just tell them how you feel about me. Assuming its good. Right? Do you like me?"

"Like a bee likes honey."

"You're the smartest Victor I've ever heard of."

* * *

"So President Kirkland actually wanted to do the Games?"

After a night out at a seafood restaurant, Kim and Aslovee walked down the narrow side street. The buildings loomed over them while they trudged through the cold air on the quiet Capitol night. Kim was able to get permission to sleep at her old home which was much less expensive and attention-grabbing than Aslovee staying at one of the country clubs or resorts.

"It was a lot easier than I thought. You all made it out like I had to force him to go with it."

"It's for the best, though. It would have looked a little odd for you to get him to do a specific Games anyway."

"So tomorrow, what do I do?"

"Just be your normal, attractive self to others. Talk about how great things are between you and Kirkland. And pretend to live the Games. That's one that a lot of people forget about."

Aslovee nodded. "Once people like him, he'll have enough self-esteem to do these Games. Basically, I wouldn't have had to do this if he wasn't so insecure and shit. But I think Helen won't have a problem. He did kind of say that there was no backing out of it anyway, so at least somebody can sleep better at night."

A few seconds pass. They stay silent and continue to walk down the lazy side street.

Aslovee grabbed Kim's arm. She hopped up in the air slightly. She turns towards him, hoping the blush on her face is masked by the dim light around them.

Aslovee released her arm. "Did you just call me attractive?"

Kim laughed faintly. "What? No. I just meant in general to act attractive to others."

"But you worded it weird."

"Can we hurry up? It's getting cold out here."

"You said your old house was a block away."

"It is."

"Two blocks ago."

They kept walking. Aslovee puts his hands in his pockets.

A few more feet, and Aslovee grows suspicious.

He looked back. A boy is behind them, walking at a distance.

"I think they're following us." Aslovee said.

Just as Kim was about to turn and see for herself, Aslovee takes her closer to him. They keep their heads down and start to walk a little faster.

However, as they cross the opening of an alleyway, another kid pops out and stops the two in their tracks. They back up in surprise onto the wall. The other guy catches up, and he nods towards them.

"Good job. I thought they were going to start running."

"That's what normally happens."

Aslovee's hands turned into fists and he looked up at the two kids. Their clothes were simple, yet still quite clean. They're hair was short and slightly messy. Even the impoverished were still decent-looking in the streets.

Aslovee looked at them with a fuming expression gleaming in his black eyes. "What the fuck do you want?"

The taller one chuckled. "Well, me and this idiot over here are in need of some...chemicals that's will help us feel better about ourselves. And to do that, we require financial assistance if s-."

"Oh! So it's money. Fucking money. That's what you want?" Aslovee shouted. He reached into his pocket. Before the boys could reach for their pockets, Aslovee pulled out a black wallet. "Here," he said. He flung a bundle of bills at the two. The paper danced in front of them while it rained down to the ground.

The two snatched at them while they fell. The black rubber handles of knives were still tucked in their pockets.

"Look at me."

The two boys looked at Aslovee who glared at them. He took a step forward.

Suddenly, one of the boy's eyes widened. He adjusted the eyeholes in his mask, and he yelped while taking a step back. "Fuck. That's Aslovee."

The other boy looked over at him. "No fucking way," he said. Then, he took off his mask. Once he saw the Victor in front of him, he jumped back as well.

"S-shit. We just mugged the fucking victor."

"No you didn't. I gave you some money. Don't act like I don't know how this works. Although I never tried to fucking mug somebody. You don't mug people, shitheads. If you want money, just pickpocket like smart people."

One of the boys looked at him inquisitively, the shock of his identity fading. "How do you mean?"

Aslovee sighed. "Go to a crowded place and walk up to somebody. Touch them on one side of the body, then take what's on the other side. Do you really not know this?"

"Sorry we didn't get 'how to be homeless' lessons."

Aslovee looked back to Kim. She had actually seemed more placid throughout the situation. She did not scream or even seem particularly frightened. She stayed behind the slightly shorter Aslovee, who kept eye contact with the two goons. When he turned back around, the pair looked down at the money in their hands.

"Also," Aslovee continued. "break into more places. Small bakeries and bookstores are great."

"Bookstores?"

"They're always warm and have break rooms with food. Bakeries are obvious, but they also have money. Which you should use as soon as you can. That shit isn't replaceable."

The taller one nodded at him. He tapped his accomplice on the shoulder. "Let's go."

He smiled and turned back to Aslovee. "Shit, man. If we knew who you were-."

"I can still get a fucking Peacekeeper on you if you don't leave."

Before he finished, Aslovee felt the wind of the escaping street rats rush through his short black hair.

* * *

Once they got settled in, Aslovee ran straight to an empty room.

Kim stood perplexed for a second before giving chase. As she traversed the large condominium, she noticed that not a single picture or lamp was out of place. It was the same modern, art-deco home that she had grown and loved.

Across the hall from the bathroom, a door was open. Assuming that was where he was, she walked inside.

Aslovee was practically ripping off his clothes.

Every ounce of Kim's being wanted him to continue, but she had a small moral fiber that brought her back to reality. "What are you doing?"

Aslovee slipped off his jacket and tie. As he was unbuttoning his white undershirt, he looked up at Kim. "Shower."

Kim stammered. "Oh! R-right. I...I just wanted to say s-something before you went in.

Aslovee took of the undershirt and flung it on the purple queen bed behind him. "I'm listening."

Kim's mind almost exploded at the stripping Aslovee. He had to be doing this on purpose, right? Or maybe he was just that desperate to get the day over with. Nevertheless, she was transfixed on every inch of his chest. Victor life had been good to him. While he had been muscular before, his body had filled out even better than before. His shoulders were broad enough to showcase his incredible frame. Screw it if he was considered short. Kim thought he was perfect.

Aslovee stopped and looked at her. His face showing a bored expression while she gawked at him. He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry. I-I just want to thank you. You kind of saved my life. In more ways than one, I guess. So...uh...bathroom is across the hall. And welcome."

Kim started to back away quickly. She walked through the doorframe and started to close the red door.

"Thanks again." She said.

She must have been clearly flustered. Her face was twenty shades of crimson, and her normally regal and flowing blonde hair was frazzled and tossed from the wind.

Whether it was from her insane appearance, her odd responses, laughing at her, or a genuine appreciation for doing her job to an extent, she wasn't sure what caused the event she just saw.

Because she was pretty sure that, right before she closed the door all the way, Aslovee smiled.

She felt a small piece of her die on the inside.

* * *

**A little more Prologue for everybody. **

**By the way, did you catch Kirkland's drift?**

**I NEED MORE SUBMISSION.**

**Please send in more tributes and get others to send them in as well. Also, have you checked out Alfonso Ling's work yet? It's great. Do it for the points!**

**And please review. It is imperative for these Games to go off well. And it is for sponsor points as well. **


	8. District 4 Reapings

**Kerri "Ice" Wakai**

Kerri Wakai had her arms crossed in front of the giant cork board. A small frown rested on her heart-shaped face. With the group of teenagers mobbing the area, she couldn't peek over at the results posted.

It was hard enough to stand in the sweat permeated hot air inside the large training center. Put that together with the loud crowd, and Kerri was getting a major headache.

Soon, disappointed sighs and annoyed groans sprinkled through the large hallway. Kerri walked up to the board. With her finger, she scrolled down the listings until she found her name.

Tracing it towards the other side, Kerri kept her stoic face as she saw the single digit next to her name.

"Holy shit. You're first."

Kerri turned towards a girl standing a hair taller than herself. The white girl raised an eyebrow at Kerri. Kimberly was Kerri's friend from the Training Center.

"I guess so." Kerri said.

"Don't act like you don't care. I know you're screaming with joy on the inside."

Kerri sighed. "I am. I really am. But I need to focus."

"On the Games?"

"Yes."

Kerri walked away. Strutting down the hallway, she passed the slogging students and exhausted trainees watching their rapidly fading reflections in the many trophy cases greeting them. She pushed the black double doors and exited the building. The sun glowered down on her as dusk started to settle through the sea-soaked air. She shielded her eyes before embarking onto the cracked sidewalk. The wind brushed her short brown hair over her face. The brisk summer day bore the waning rays of light in the cerulean sky. With the speed of her incessant sparing sessions, she found herself lost in her mind, eventually stopping at the edge of a wooden pier.

She leaned on the railing in front of her and looked out at the endless, translucent expanse.

Footsteps clapped behind her as Kimberly caught up with her.

"Be happy for once. You're work payed off."

"Not yet," Kerri said. "It's more than just me."

"What is? Why are you saying that?"

Kerri stopped and leaned on the metal railing at the edge of the pier. She looked out at the green sea, rolling over the foaming waves and reflecting shimmering sunbeams.

"You know why this year is going to be tough, right?"

"Because you could die?"

"Besides that. Remember last year?"

Kimberly looked out at the ocean with Kerri. "That misogynist incest guy? Yeah."

"And remember how I told you about my family?"

"Yeah. You're family is weird. What of it?"

"Not weird. We come from a different place. And my family has something important. And it's something that's been lost over the past few years."

"Loyalty?"

"And honor. You really think I would have stood 5 minutes with that guy. I would have gotten rid of him the moment he started to kill the others."

"So you're worried about bringing honor to the District."

"I guess I'm what you call patriotic. Maybe it's stupid, but it gives me a goal."

"It's going to be lonely without you, Ice."

Kerri sighed. "You'll be fine. This could be a chance for you to learn to like solitude."

"I don't need spiritual wacko advice, thank you."

"It's called Shinto and Buddhism, and stop talking about it in public. Its illegal."

Kerri's house was a little more inland than she would have liked. She got most of the sea breeze, but the scenery of other rooftops and fruit stands were not as poignant as she envisioned. TO be fair, she was not a rainbow-and-sunshine girl, preferring the dark war novels to any pick-me-up romantic comedy. Her house almost mirrored that aspect. It was large, yet slightly dark in appearance. The grey house with dark red shutters by the large windows sat in the middle of a row of other homes.

Kerri walked inside. Eight great-grandparents and four grandparents packed the building along with her two parents and sister. She started to cook food for the house.

Soon, her father sat by the white coffee table. He greeted Kerri.

"Where'd you place?" Said Papa Cho.

"First." Kerri said quietly.

"That's my baby. Ready for the big day?"

"Yes, father."

Soon, her mother walked into the room. She skidded the chair over the linoleum floor. The screeching made Kerri grit her teeth. "Is the fish ready?" Her mom asked.

"Actually, I burned it." Kerri said.

The parents looked at each other before turning towards Kerri. "Again?" Papa Cho said.

"I've only done fish twice."

"Guess we'll just have rice then," her mom said.

She nodded. "Yes."

Kerri stared out the window.

**Triton St. Pierre**

Triton St. Pierre was less energetic than usual. It made little sense as to the reason for this small slump in his emotions. He had just been picked to go into the Games, the sun was shining, and Azalea Thomas was skipping rocks in front if the ocean. Looking at the girl with the dark-brown ponytail, his small smile wavered like the lapping warm waters on the rocky edge of the bay. It was the trials and tribulations of living in a world where the highest honor was entering the Hunger Games.

For Triton, his priorities may have recently changed.

"Zane got a haircut." Triton said.

Azalea rolled her eyes. She held a small, saucer of a rock and chucked it into the water. It skittered across the punctured water twice before sailing downward into the depths. "I saw him. He got like one strand cut."

"He's trying." Triton said. He picked up a rock from the ground and flicked it to the water. This rock simply sank to the floor without any skips.

"No he's not."

Quiet air encapsulated them in this small pocket of serenity. Triton was gathering his words, attempting to convey his feelings about leaving the next day. He felt like he was chocking on vomit, but he certainly would not let his headstrong girlfriend realize this.

"Are you gonna get a haircut?"

Trying looked towards Azalea. She adjusted her ponytail and shuffled closer to Triton. "Why?" He asked.

Azalea dropped the rock in her hand. "So it won't get in the way when you go."

Triton grimaced. "Can we not talk about it? Please?"

"It's happening tomorrow, Triton. You're going to have to admit they picked you at some point."

"I'll deny it then."

"Deny it?"

"Yes. I'll act like the Games don't exist. That way, when I end up in them, I'll just sit in a corner and let everyone else handle the business. So then I can win and get back to you."

"Just to me? Not your family?"

"Well, since your already there, I guess my family wouldn't hurt."

Azalea giggled and placed her hand on Triton's shoulder. "We still haven't baked your mom's birthday cake."

Triton slid a strand of Azalea's hair away from her face. "You know I wreck anything involving a stove."

"That's why I'll supervise."

Triton sighed. "I don't want to sound sappy, but I wa-."

"But you will. Because that's how it is," Azalea interrupted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Fish fly, birds swim, and you're sappy."

"Not that sappy."

"You give every homeless guy you see money."

"That's not sappy."

"If that's not sappy, then what is."

Triton chuckled. "I wanted to say that I wish I could stay like this."

"Forever?"

Triton smiled.

"Sap." Azalea said while playfully knocking on Triton's head.

Triton leaned in and they kissed. At first, it was soft, almost teasing on Azalea's part. Triton would have none of that. He snaked his arms around her and pulled her in closer. Soon, they locked into a harsh battle with their lips.

* * *

Triton fist bumped Zane when they met in the street. Zane was a taller young man with soil-brown hair and matching eyes. Out on the sun-stroked street, it seemed to glow. Whether that was from natural sheen or grease, Triton could not tell.

"Hey man. Where's Azalea?" Zane said quietly.

"She's with the others. She said its good luck that we don't see each other until the goodbyes."

Zane nodded. "Good. May I ask where your shirt is, too?"

Triton looked down at his bare chest. The only other clothes he had on were his ironed skinny jeans. "I don't have one."

"You're poor, now."

"I mean, it'd make a good impression if I went shirtless." Triton said with a small smile.

"I guess. Azalea might get the wrong idea, though."

"I doubt it. She's smart. Which is why I'm going and she's not."

"That and a fourteen year old girl did better than her."

Triton laughed and they made it to the town square.

At the square, the normal portrait of chattering teenagers swirled around in the sections in front of the stage. Just then, a woman in a tight pink jumpsuit and white flat shoes shuffled towards the microphone at the center of the stage.

"Welcome ladies and gentleman, to this years reaping of the Seventy Seventh Hunger Games," she said in a husky voice. "This year, I have a feeling our Victor's are going to come right from this crop. It's going to be exciting, thrilling, and invigorating to all involved. So on with the show."

The video played. It was stupid.

"Ladies first, as always."

"Our first Tribute is Miss T-Sizzle."

"I volunteer."

From the fourteen-year-old section, a stoic-faced, tanned Asian female walked with the ease of running water through the sea of people. Her pixie cut black hair sashayed with the quick movements of her walking. She reached the black stage, and she started to walk up the hardwood steps. She crossed the stage and made it to _.

"And what is your name?"

She looked out to the crowd. "My name is Kerri Wakai, but I go by Ice."

A few people in the crowd cheered in approval.

The lady nodded. "Excellent. Now, for one more tribute."

The lady walks towards the other bowl. She reaches down towards the bowl. Inside, she rustles a few pieces of paper. Her long fingers grab a slip and yanked it out. She cleared her throat.

"Our next tribute is Felix Kjellberg."

"I volunteer."

Triton snakes his way through the crowd. His heart beat faster like the thumping of his feet on the hot concrete. He poked his head over the crowd, searching for a glimpse of Azalea. Soon, he have up and trotted the remaining way to the stage. Walking up the steps, he heard a few excited squeals and catcalls coming from the female section.

Triton smiled and waved to the female section. A few swoons of the females later, Triton made it to the microphone.

"And what is your name?" The lady asked.

Triton winked at the camera. "My name is Trtion St. Pierre."

"And words for anybody, Triton?"

"I think my appearance speaks for itself." He gestures towards his body.

A few more squeals. Azalea couldn't help but roll her eyes and laugh.

* * *

"You okay?"

Kerri looked up at her father Cho. He had a small smile, and his eyes were wide as they adjusted to the dark sitting room off the velvet carpet of the hallway.

"I'm fine." She said.

"You're allowed to show emotion, Kerri." Mom said.

"I can live without for now."

Just then, her sister walked in.

"Kate, say goodbye to Kerri."

Kerri's younger carbon copy walked up to Kerri with narrow eyes. Her breathing was slightly heavy, and her shoulders were hunched in tension. The siblings stared at each other. A wispy silence echoed between them like the dispersing crowd outside.

"Good luck." She said to Kerri.

"Can you try to be sincere?" Kerri asked.

"No."

"I may not have much time left." Kerri's said, almost teasing her sister.

"Don't say things like that," her mom said. "It's not positive."

"I'll be more positive when I leave."

Dad cleared his throat. "I guess we'll see you on the big screen."

Kerri bowed down. "I will do my best, father."

"Why don't you give hugs like normal teenage girls?" Dad asked.

"I'll give you one when I get back."

"I'm holding you to that."

Triton leaned on the cool window pane. Looking out at the town center, he traced his finger on the frosty glass. Despite his lviely facade, he was mych more melancholy on the inside.

"Triton."

He felt his gut tighten the moment Azalea's voice floated into his ear. He turned to see his amazing girlfriend. She had a boyish smile on her face, and the two walked up to each other. Triton felt more uneasy with every passing second. The string in his veins tightened and made his limbs rigid. He already felt a dearth in his chest, aware that this vision of Azalea could be one of the last ones he has for a while.

The kiss was soft at first. Triton tried to be gentle and relaxed. However, Azalea notched the passion up, and soon, they were in a lip-locked war. Azalea let Triton sit down, and she climbed onto his lap.

After almost suffocating from the lack of air, the two separate. Triton stared at Azalea dumbfounded. Azalea grinned.

"Just a reminder for what you'll be missing."

Triton stroked Azalea's cheek and sighed. "This sucks."

Azalea adjusted herself in his lap. "Don't think of it like that. Just think. We've seen each other every day since we saw each other at my dad's store when we were ten. Now, you can go a few weeks without seeing me. And hen you get back, I might arrange for a little welcome back present that night. You said you wanted passion, right?"

Triton reached into his pocket and fingered a small gold band. It felt warm in between his fingers. He tumbled it over and over. With a few passing seconds and revolutions of the ring, he shook his head to himself. It wasn't time for that yet.

"I think I'll have a surprise for you, also."

"It better not be what I think it will be."

"And what if it is?"

Azalea got up and pushed Triton back. "Sap."

Triton took his hand out of his pocket. He couldn't think about the future right now. For the next few weeks, he would make it his duty to only look at the present, and spend his waking seconds reveling in them.

* * *

**I must apologize for my lack of frequency in updates. However, with the hope for more submissions to this SYOT and less work in my school life, I plan on having reapings out sooner. So please submit more Tributes! The Tribute list should be updated, but if you have any questions, let me know! **

**Review as always! They are great for me and for you.**

**Thank you. See you soon.**


	9. District 2 Reapings

**Ayden Everett**

The girl with long, wavy oak hair popped the crystal can of liquor open.

It was no secret that Ayden Everett was a fan of partying. After all, she had every right to. The blue-green eyed girl gleamed in the limelight of the revelers egging her drinking onward to drunken bliss. She had finished first in the training exam. She was going to savor every drop of the drink dribbling down her warm throat.

When she finished, she flung the can to the floor. The group around her cheered. Outside in the warm air, the large house exploded in light like the fountain of beer and alcohol raining around them.

"Keep it coming. I'm hard to break," Ayden shouted.

A man with red hair and green eyes approached Ayden. With a tap on the shoulder, she turned to her brother.

"What is it?"

He cleared his throat. "You've had five drinks. You'll feel like shit tomorrow if you keep it up."

Ayden put her finger on his lips to silence him. "Excuse me, but I can handle myself."

Taking her by the wrist, he pulled her away from the group like a rag doll in tow. She tried to struggle, but he was too strong to escape from the grip. As she groaned in stress, the scrunching of her sneakers followed like a ghost through the moonlit streets. Dim streetlamps spied on the midnight dew glistening in the yellow light.

Just as the pair passed a brick wall, Ayden decided it was best to take a break. She leaned towards her side and landed on the brick wall. Her brother stopped and released her wrist.

"What's your problem?" He asked.

"I just wanted to rest, Ares. Stop being so uptight."

Ares walked towards her. He stopped a few inches in front of her. Warm breathe lathered in the tangy, burning alcohol sensation permeated from Ayden. She smiled.

"You can't have a hangover for tomorrow."

Ayden rolled her eyes. "I'm not gonna have a hangover. Don't be stupid. What're you worried about for, anyway? I'm the one running in to win."

Ares stammered. "I'm worried about you getting your head chopped off the moment you waltz in."

"That's not gonna happen, Ares. I'm fast. I'm strong. Stop being a buzzkill. Let me have fun."

"Can you try to take this seriously?"

"Of course I can. I only drank light shit."

Aren sighed. Looking at his sister, he took a step back. However, he grabbed her wrist again. "You know why I paid off those trainers a few years ago? It wasn't to save myself."

"It was for me. I know. Can you let that go. It's not like you saved a mountain of people from the Nut a few years ago."

"Well, I saved you."

"That's because I was training. Can we go home? I need to sleep."

Aren rubbed his face. "Now you want to go home. Alright, how about this. For the next month, you have to be a veritable angel. No drinking, partying, cursing, nothing."

"What's in it for me?"

"You won't die."

Ayden laughed. "Sorry, brother, but you can't bribe me with something I'll get anyway."

Aren felt his stomach muscles tense up. He wanted to vomit from her overconfidence any second. And he wasn't even the one that was drinking.

**Augustine "Gus" Vestus**

The blue vest matched well with the white undershirt and brown tight pants. The bed was already made. His hands carefully molded the sheets to a crisp flat terrain. Not a single spec of dust existed in the sunbeam shooting through the window next to the neat wooden desk. The walls reflected the rest of the bare-bone sensibility that the room possessed. They were a stark white. The only thing pinned on them was the hovering figure of the Panem flag, always proud and pompous.

Gus would not stand to leave the house without his room being kept in the right condition. Even if he wanted to, his father would most likely drag him off the train and force him back.

Gus looked in the large mirror by his desk. The short boy with thick, curled black hair rubbed away any grime that may have been lurking in the crevices of his eyelids. The dull freckles on his face were the only visible blemishes on his body. The rest were etched into his back, fading into his tan skin, but noticeable regardless.

He walked down the wooden stairs of the large house. Running his hand over the smooth, lavender finished wood, Gus skittered down the remaining steps and took one last look at the picture on the base of the steps.

"Augustine?"

His father looked the exact same from the picture as he did standing five feet in front of him. Gus reinforced his already needle-straight posture.

"Sir! I apologize for my tardin-."

"Relax, Augustine. You're fine. Although the cuff on your left wrist is wrinkled."

Gus felt a shiver stab his spine when he looked down and saw the blemish on the navy blue arm.

"Don't have an aneurism of it," his father said. "We need you calm for the Reaping."

Gus looked back up and regained his composure. He raised an arm and placed his hand in a pointed fashion by his forehead. "Yes, sir. May I leave?"

"Certainly. We will meet you in the Town Hall room after the Reapings."

Gus spun on his feet and marched towards the white door. His black combat boots tapped on the hardwood floor with every flourish of his ankle. He did not spare a glance back towards his father, afraid of seeing another disapproving look before his trip began.

A number of teenagers were already filing towards the center for the Reapings. Being on the other side of the Nut, only the more prestigious members of the District moseyed on with their lives in the shadow of the wildlife beyond the fences. Gus broke into a soft jog as his boots pounded onto the brick walkway towards the front door, and then it beat on the cement sidewalk heading towards the Reaping area. For Gus, it was always a march or a jog. Preferably a run. There was no moseying for him and his family.

A hand on his shoulder made him whip around.

"A little high strung?" The younger girl asked.

Gus cleared his throat. "I'm fine, Ebony. I just want to be in front."

Ebony started to walk past him. "They already picked you. There is nobody to fight against."

Gus caught back up with her as they continued down the lazy road invaded by large white houses and security vehicles that Gus always rode in with his father. "So why are you coming now?"

"Same as you. I want to be in front. I could get picked next year."

"It's a real shame you are not a year older."

"It's a real shame I didn't do a little better. Imagine it. A Silver and a Vestus in the Games together. The Peacekeepers here would have a field day. Whether it would be a good or bad one, I don't know."

"Hopefully a good one. Otherwise, my father would just fire them or worse."

Ebony chuckled. "Well, it's not like my dad is any better. I think he has two more executions than yours."

Gus looked over at her. "You mean that he ordered them, or actually did them? Because, I think my dad wins in the 'ordered' department."

"I guess that would explain why you don't like to get your hands dirty."

"I don't want to play around with them. I'd just do the job. That's that."

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Soon, they were met by a small string of teenagers. Then, a small pack. Soon, a mob all gathered at the check in stations for the Reapings. With a curt nod, Gus departed from Ebony's side and walked towards the fifteen-year-old male section.

A fingerprick and an overt welcome from a man with a baldhead and puffy cheeks, the video showed up once again.

Gus felt his hazel brown eyes quiver slightly at the sight of the propaganda. Sure, there were a few embellishments, but the story of how the Capitol came together and pacified twelve other Districts was mesmerizing. There was no greater comfort in the world for him than knowing that the Capitol was there for him to work with as a future Peacekeeper. It infuriated him when the news of the Rebellion broke out. In fact, it was the first real moment Gus felt that he was protecting his own District and country when his father gave him the sniper rifle and told him to shoot anything coming close to their house or area.

Katniss Everdeen was an obstructing poll away from being blasted off the Earth, and the thought of performing that duty made Gus happy.

It was something his father had instilled in him from the moment he was born and the moment his father became Head Peacekeeper. It was his home, or it was the grave.

Soon, the man dipped his hand into the bowl. It was ladies first, as always.

Now for his District partner. She did not seem serious about this at all. In fact, she seemed a little disoriented. Ayden Everett was her name.

"Hey, there. Hope you're all ready for me. This year, the Victors are coming to District Two." She shouted.

Certainly not an understated person. Gus sighed.

Needless to say, he found his name called up as expected a few seconds later.

Ducking past the gate separating the stage, Gus rounded a corner and strode up the steps. Once he reached the summit, he marched forward over the stage towards the center. The enigmatic female bounced on her toes, while the other man smiled and thrusted the microphone in his direction.

"Any words, Augustine?"

Gus took the microphone and looked out at the crowd. The mob stretched through the entire busy square to the horizon of shops and apartment complexes.

The only faces Gus noticed where the ones obstructed behind the middle-aged man in the blue Panem military uniform.

"To my District," he said just like he practiced. "We have been faced with a challenge that must be fought. It is my honor and privilege to face this challenge head on with your support. I promise that, by this time next month, you will have a new Victor of the Hunger Games gracing your presence with the honor and pride of our amazing country behind us. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem Forever."

The crowd clapped with a few whistles and cheers escaping their mouths.

All that mattered to Gus was the small nod of approval from his father.

**Ayden Everett**

Ayden paced over the crimson carpet in the small sitting room overlooking the town square. She was elated at the situation. With her tough persona and abilities, these Games would be a cinch for her.

She already knew that her District partner was going to be a buzzkill. However, she could work around that. If he didn't get support from anybody, than she would be just as fine without him.

The door opened. Her mother with long red hair and green eyes came in. Her towering frame loomed over Ayden.

Mom smiled. "Well, I'm glad somebody in this house has decided to do something with their lives."

The haughty man behind her with thinning brown hair put his hands on Ayden's shoulder. "Absolutely. How are you feeling?"

Ayden groaned. "That Gus kid is gonna be a total pain in the ass."

Mom nodded. "Don't let it get in the way. He will fail anyway if he can't be personable."

Just then, Ares cleared his throat and walked in. He moved towards Ayden. When he came closer to her, he wrapped her into a tight hug. Ayden half-heartedly squeezed back.

"Do good, sister. But don't go crazy on your way back home."

Ayden laughed. "Whatever. I guess nobody else is coming?"

"Your friends couldn't make it," Dad said.

"Sorry. You won't get to flirt with Graham until you get back," Ares said.

Ayden sighed. "Fine. I should go then."

**Augustine "Gus" Vestus**

Gus sat as straight as an ironing board on the plush leather love seat in the corner of the white room. The drapes sheltered the inside from the dim sunlight obscured by the dark clouds outside. As far as Gus was concerned, he felt almost relieved to finally go into the Games. After years of indoctrination, his loyalty would finally pay off.

First, Ebony came in the room. Gus stood up in front of her.

"I don't have all that much to say. At least, nothing that hasn't been said before."

Gus nodded. "Understood."

"Good luck."

Gus smiled. "Thanks."

As his family walks in, Gus looks at his frowning brother. Julius was eighteen, after all. When he made it to Gus, he sneered at him.

"You realize this was my last year?" Julius asked mirthfully.

Gus sighed. "Listen, I do not want any bad feelings between us. It has nothing to do with gaining attention. It is for respect and pride. You know that."

His mother, Electra, swept aside Julius. "Calm down, dear. Nothing doing, now. Augustine, I have to say something. That other girl is quite the flake. All she does is drink and party."

"It's a disgrace she was voted in." His father added in a gruff voice.

"Make sure you stay focused. I've heard a lot about her family, and they are some weirdos."

"Unlike us," Julius added.

"Don't be such a drag, Julius. The point is that you will be returning home. Not her. So stay sharp." Mom said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And son?"

Gus turned to his father and looked up at him. "Sir?"

"Show them what you're made of. Not weak shit, either. But what is expected of you from us."

Gus saluted to him. "I will do everybody proud."

* * *

**Thank you for joining me again. I apologize for the long layoff. However, I should be able to pick things up a little easier assuming I ave the correct number of TRIBUTES!**

**If you look at the tribute list, you will see there are still plenty of openings. Let's change that! Get everybody you know involved. It does not matter who, as long as they will be active readers.**

**The story spotlight for sponsor points will go towards: my new story! Sorry, but self-promotion is key. It is Attack on Titan: The Musical. Tell me what you think of it thus far!**

**I am still open for any o-writing positions that may be considered for this SYOT. I'm not made of time, you know!**

**As always, review well. Thank you!**


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